The Hidden Warden
by Riva Belgarion
Summary: After the Battle of Ostagar, a pair of Grey Warden recruits find themselves struggling to survive in the darkspawn-infested south alongside a senior Warden: the fabled Anthatal of Warrior's Reach.
1. I

The man strode at a moderate pace along the paved road, occasionally passed by a peasant or farmer on their way to their own business. It was not his to inquire, and so he remained silent, ignoring their confused looks as they noticed him.

He was a tall man, by Fereldan standards, standing at well over six and a half feet. He was broad of shoulder and thickly built, but not overweight. He had not one ounce of fat on his muscular frame. He strode with an easy confidence about him, but his eyes showed his constant alertness. His left hand was hooked comfortably in the strap of the pack over his left shoulder, and his right hung by his side.

None of these, however, were the reason that the other travelers stared as he passed. He was clad from the shoulders down in a uniquely crafted chainmail, perhaps old Elven make. The chain itself was made of white steel, and the breastplate, shoulder plates and greaves were solid plate veridium, a rare metal found almost exclusively in the Free Marches, north of Ferelden. A massive blade hung on his back, sheathed in the qunari style: a long strip of leather with an open side that had two straps holding the blade inside the sheath, allowing for easy removal and return of the blade. The blade was crafted from the same white steel as the chainmail, and its hilt was unadorned except for an orb, about the size of a fist, locked into the pommel.

The man continued his journey eastward along the Great West Road, heading towards the village of Lothering, the rallying point for the men of his order. There they would wait for the forces of the Fereldan king to join them, and they would march south to Ostagar, the old Tevinter fortress on the edge of the Korcari Wilds, the wilderness south of Ferelden. There they would await their enemy's arrival.

As the sun sank into the west, the village came into view. The man adjusted the pack on his shoulder and entered Lothering. Obviously it had become a haven for all that lived south of the West Road, and refugees packed into any once-open space like sardines. The man felt a pang of sorrow, and his dedication to his duty strengthened with every face he saw. _The Blight will not reach these innocent people_, he said to himself. _I will not allow it._

The man walked towards the Chantry, the large, rectangular building at the center of all villages in southern Thedas that served as their church. Here the Chant of Light was preached daily, and the disciples of Andraste, prophet of the Maker, worshipped her here. He shook his head sadly as he entered and saw the throngs of people attending the Chant. Religion would not save these poor sods.

"Anthatal!" The man turned as he heard his name, and quickly identified the speaker. A young man, perhaps twenty, with a kind face and short hair, pushed through the crowds and gripped Anthatal's offered hand in friendship. The man was beaming as he addressed his superior, "Anthatal, it is good to see you again."

Anthatal smiled briefly. "I feel the same, Alistair. How does it feel to be back in the Chantry?"

The young man rolled his eyes, "The Revered Mother won't stop bothering me about 'abandoning the Maker' and 'forsaking your inherent duties'. Just because I grew up in a Chantry doesn't mean I have to be a templar."

Anthatal shook his head, smiling again. "You haven't changed at all, Alistair."

"Oh, yes I have. I've got this." He smiled as he touched his thin goatee. "Duncan told me to wait a while, but I'm going to go ahead and let it grow in."

The older man forced a change in subject. "Where is Duncan now?"

Alistair pointed over his shoulder with a mailed hand. "In there, talking with the other veteran Wardens. You'd better get in there; you're late."

Anthatal took leave from his friend with a firm handshake and entered the indicated side room. An older man, perhaps forty, with a full beard, greeted him. "Good, Anthatal. You are here. I was beginning to worry."

"No need for that, Duncan. I wouldn't miss this party for the world."

Duncan chuckled. "I knew you wouldn't. We only have a few hours until King Cailan arrives, so we'll have to catch you up on the road. Get some rest for now, and we'll see each other again soon."

Anthatal nodded in agreement and took his leave, finding a pallet on the floor next to Alistair's. No matter how hard he tried, the young man couldn't get his friend to stay up talking all night, and Anthatal quickly fell asleep.


	2. II

"Hey, Anthatal, wake up." The stick prodded him again, and the tall man rolled over towards it, groaning. "What, Alistair?"

Alistair's face appeared in the half-light that comes just before dawn. "Duncan wanted to see you. He's got to leave, so he wants to brief you before he goes."

Anthatal stood up and stretched, then pulled on a plain brown tunic and hose and walked out into the chilly morning. Duncan was waiting at the northern edge of the village, and he turned as the tall man approached. "Good, you're awake. Here's the situation: we couldn't get nearly as many Wardens here as we wanted, so I have to go find more. I'll see you at Ostagar in about a month, but as it stands, you are the highest-ranking Warden here, so you're in charge. It's simple enough; just get us an area near the old temple and make sure the Joining ceremony is ready for the recruits. Let the newer Wardens do as they please, but make sure they all are well-rested. We don't want any drowsy warriors on the battlefield."

"I understand, Duncan."

Duncan smiled, his weathered face half hidden under his beard. "Good. You should have no problems with darkspawn, but if they do arrive ahead of their main army, take some of the newer Wardens out to beat them back. They need experience and we can't afford to lose many soldiers before the real battle is joined. Leave with Cailan's army as soon as they are ready."

The old friends gripped each others' forearms firmly in the traditional Warden manner, and Duncan's face grew serious. "Cailan thinks that this may not be a true Blight, Anthatal. Make sure he doesn't get overconfident."

"I will, Duncan. Good hunting."

"The same to you, friend."

Anthatal watched Duncan's strong figure get swallowed up by the mists, and returned to the Chantry. Most of the other Wardens were already awake as he began to pull on his armor, and Alistair was engaged with two of the new recruits. Anthatal made a mental note to get to know them later, perhaps on the road, as he buckled his massive blade onto his back and prepared to meet the King of Ferelden.


	3. III

Cailan Theirin was not an imposing man, but he was slightly taller than his general, Loghain Mac Tir. The young king was not much older than Alistair, and they actually looked quite similar. Cailan had his long hair pulled back and a massive blade, similar to Anthatal's but much more expensive, sheathed on his back, qunari-style. He wore the golden armor of Maric Theirin, his father, who had led the Fereldans against the Orlesian Empire but thirty years before. Loghain Mac Tir had been Maric's general as well as his son's, and obviously did not relish working for a man less than half his age.

Loghain was a typical Fereldan; in fact he was nothing more until the Battle of River Dane, where he helped Maric defeat the Orlesians. For his aid in that victory, Loghain was given a teyrnir, and became one of three teyrns in all of Ferelden. He still kept his plain, unadorned steel plate armor, and wore a standard Fereldan longsword at his side and a kite shield on his back.

These two men walked side by side out of Lothering at the head of the Fereldan army, and the Grey Wardens under the command of Anthatal fanned around them, keeping watch for ambushes. The Wardens were only a score strong, and thus they were thinly spread around the army. Anthatal caught up to the king and his general after positioning his Wardens, and Cailan greeted him enthusiastically.

"So you're a Grey Warden? I've always wanted to meet one. Your order is legendary for your skills in battle."

Loghain did not share the same view. "The Wardens live on nothing but legend. I don't recall them being the ones to force Orlais out of Ferelden."

Anthatal spoke respectfully, but his voice was icy. "The Wardens had been expelled from Ferelden at the time for a crime they did not commit. Maric Theirin was wise enough to allow the order to return to Ferelden twenty years ago."

Loghain was about to reply, but Cailan interrupted him. "Are you Duncan? I've heard so much about the man, and you fit the descriptions."

Anthatal chuckled, touching his beard that undoubtedly matched Duncan's by now. "No, your Majesty. Duncan could not join us, and he has given me command of the Wardens. My name is Anthatal."

"Oh," the disappointment was obvious in Cailan's voice. "Where has Duncan gone to?"

"He is trying to conscript more Wardens, your Majesty. He fears that we will not be enough."

"To stop this little uprising?" Cailan scoffed. "This isn't even a true Blight, Anthatal. We've had no reports of an Archdemon, so this must be nothing more than a result of boredom from hiding underground. The darkspawn will see our might, and see the Wardens' banner flying beside mine, and flee before us."

This response worried Anthatal. Duncan was right; Cailan was too innocent to see the truth. He spoke again, choosing his words carefully. "My Lord, just because we haven't seen an Archdemon yet doesn't mean we won't ever see one. It may be that he is waiting to see the strength of our forces before emerging. We must have enough Wardens to kill him if he decides to appear."

Cailan did not seem pleased with this response, but recognized the freedom that the Wardens had to do as they wished in darkspawn matters, and said so. Anthatal thanked him for understanding and excused himself, moving forward to scout ahead of the army.


	4. IV

After a week of travel, the army reached Ostagar. The last three days had left the entire army, even King Cailan, soaked to the bone as constant rain plagued them. Anthatal had his Wardens set up camp where Duncan had asked them to, and the twenty Wardens collapsed wearily onto their pallets as soon as the tents were up. Anthatal, however, had too much on his mind to rest, and roamed the camp in the slight drizzle, still bearing his white steel armor.

He noted the positions of the mages' camp, the Chantry's camp and the tents of the King and of Loghain within the general perimeter of the entire campsite. The tall man then checked on the guards at the southern end of the camp to make sure all was well, and headed to the bridge spanning the wide canyon they would attempt to lure the bulk of the darkspawn horde into. He crossed the massive stone structure and entered the Tower of Ishal, the last standing tower of the old fortress. After a while he returned to the Wardens' camp to find Alistair waiting for him.

"Can't sleep?" inquired the young man.

Anthatal shook his head and sat next to the ex-templar on the bench. Neither spoke for a long while, both exhausted from the march but unable to rest. Alistair then turned to his friend. "Why don't you take off your armor? You'd be more comfortable that way."

The older Warden shook his head. "No, Alistair, I've been a Warden long enough to know that that would be a bad idea. Darkspawn could come at any moment, and we need to be ready." He smiled wanly, "Besides, I've worn it enough that I barely notice it anymore. It's like wearing a tunic."

Alistair accepted this answer, and silence once again took over. They sat there, unmoving, until the sun touched the eastern horizon and the rain stopped with dawn's first light. Anthatal stood and stretched, then addressed Alistair without looking at him. "I think I ought to patrol the perimeter to check for any hostile activity. Care to join me?"

He waited for a second, and when no answer came he looked at the young man. Alistair had fallen asleep, his head resting on his hand propped up on his knee. Anthatal smiled briefly and walked off quietly, not wishing to disturb his friend's rest.

Before he could escape to the Wilds, however, he was hailed from the King's tent by a now-familiar voice. He turned and grudgingly walked towards Cailan. The young king had decided that Anthatal was now his personal Grey Warden encyclopedia, and always had questions to ask about his order. The tall Warden sighed; it was going to be a long morning.


	5. V

"So, how can you sense the darkspawn and everything? Is it some sort of magical gift that you receive upon joining the Wardens' ranks?"

Anthatal regretted his decision to abstain from rest the previous night; the last four hours solid had been spent answering an unending stream of questions asked by the young King Cailan. He knew that Loghain could get him out of answering all of these, but he detested the man. His arrogance was almost unbearable; it seemed that he rode through life on the back of his fame.

The tall man shook his head slightly to clear it of these thoughts and answered Cailan's question. "The Joining ceremony is what gives us that power, your Majesty. As part of the ceremony we drink a mixture of darkspawn blood and magical components, and so we take the taint into ourselves."

Cailan made a face. "That can't taste good. Darkspawn blood?"

A wry smile crossed Anthatal's face. "It is not the most pleasant taste in the world, I can assure you."

"You mentioned the taint. What, exactly, is that?"

"The taint is the curse that resides within all darkspawn. Only a strong mind can withstand the taint, as the Archdemon summons his minions through it. If one's mind is not strong enough, they go insane when the taint enters their system. Even for the strongest mind, the taint is fatal. All Grey Wardens die within thirty years of their Joining."

"I've heard that some Warden recruits die during the Joining. Why is that?"

"Some of the components we add to the blood cause death by asphyxiation if the taint is rejected by the body. This prevents more weak-minded Warden recruits from going insane, and asphyxiation is a far better death than the one the taint brings to you."

"So you purposely poison those who cannot withstand the taint's call?"

"Yes, for their sake as well as for that of future Wardens."

Cailan seemed disturbed by this, and a small hope entered Anthatal's mind that perhaps the king was finished interviewing him. Then another question emerged.

"I've heard of dwarves in the Deep Roads who have gone insane because they are forced to eat darkspawn corpses to survive. How is it that the taint is still in them even after they are dead?"

_Blast it,_ thought Anthatal, _so much for the end of the interview._ "Your Majesty, the darkspawn are the taint. It is as inseparable from their being as magic is from a mage. The dwarves who are forced to eat darkspawn to survive do not have the components to cause asphyxiation, and so they are forced to endure a living hell. The few that I have met have begged me to kill them, to release them from their imprisonment in a broken body. Out of pity, I have done so."

"You'd kill someone if they asked you to?"

"It all depends on circumstance, but if they are in pain, then yes, I would. And I have."

Cailan chewed on this for a few minutes, and then stood up from the table. "Thank you for answering my questions, Anthatal. It is good for me to understand exactly what our army faces here."

Anthatal bowed, inwardly relieved. "My pleasure, your Highness. Please excuse me; I must see to my men."

"Of course, master Warden."

Anthatal bowed again and exited the royal tent, exhaled slowly and walked to the old temple ruin. He slid down and sat against the wall, finally allowing himself the rest he so desperately needed.


	6. VI

The sound of footsteps right next to him awoke the tall Warden, and he stood up quickly. One of the Warden recruits stood before him, a slightly apologetic look on his face. "Sorry to disturb you, Commander, but we have news from the Wilds."

"What's the situation?"

The man pointed over his shoulder. "One of the guards at the gate thought he heard noises, so he sent me to tell you."

"What sort of noises?"

"A growling noise, he said. He's never heard darkspawn before, so he wasn't sure, but he thought it might be one."

Anthatal walked towards the wooden gates that marked the southern extremity of the camp, saying to the recruit as he went: "Gather the other recruits and the newer Wardens and come with me. Make sure you're fully armed."

"Right away, Commander."

The tall man brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes and pulled on his helm, undoing one of the two straps that held his blade in its sheath just afterwards. He approached the guards at the gates, both of whom looked rather nervous, and one started babbling right away. "Good to see you Commander. I heard a darkspawn out there, I swear I did. He must've been huge the way he growled an' all was so bloody awful. Please tell me you've come to kill him."

"Calm yourself, man. You'll be facing the horde soon enough, so you'd better get used to darkspawn."

The guard straightened himself. "Right. Sorry, Commander, I just...panicked."

Anthatal resisted the urge to reply sarcastically and instead nodded in acknowledgement. After a minute, the recruit returned with the new Wardens. The tall man addressed them in a somber tone. "I understand that for most of you, this is your first time fighting darkspawn. Remember that even though they may be hideously ugly, they're just as stupid. They have no fighting technique, so if you keep your heads, you'll be fine. Take this as an introduction to being a Grey Warden." Then he turned to the recruits. "Run and get some small vials from the mages. You'll need to collect blood, one vial each, for your Joining. This is the first of your ritual tests. You'll have one senior Warden assigned to each pair of you, and he'll lead you as we hunt down the darkspawn."

As the recruits went to ask for vials from the mages, Anthatal turned to the "senior" Wardens. "Each of you take your recruits and hunt down at least ten darkspawn each. Split up and cover the area thoroughly. Alistair and I will remain here to maintain security." The six remaining Wardens nodded their understanding and readied their weapons as Anthatal walked off to tell Cailan of the situation, Alistair trailing him.


	7. VII

"Darkspawn, you say? How many?"

"No more than a score, your Majesty. The Wardens can easily handle them."

Cailan turned to face the tall warrior behind him. He started to say something, but Loghain cut him off. "As skilled as the Wardens may be, they should not eliminate all the darkspawn by themselves. Our men need experience fighting these creatures as well."

Anthatal struggled to keep the annoyance he felt from showing on his face as he turned to address the teyrn. "All due respect, General, but I have a dozen recruits here that need far more experience than your men. After they return, you are free to do as you will, but Duncan will return shortly with more recruits, and again the Wardens will take precedence."

Loghain's face reddened. "You have not the authority to address me so!"

At this point, young king Cailan decided to step in. "Commander Anthatal, the crown recognizes the claim of the Order of the Grey Wardens in this matter, and we will grant you precedence in matters regarding this darkspawn invasion. You will have full jurisdiction over every man leaving this encampment for whatever purpose, and you have the power to deny them passage."

"Your Majesty, I think this is a poor decision," the Hero of River Dane grated through clenched teeth.

"This matter is closed, Loghain."

The black-haired teyrn bowed deeply to hide his expression. "As you wish, my Lord."

Cailan turned to Anthatal, who spoke first. "Your Majesty, such drastic measures need not be instated. I will give my jurisdiction over to your General as soon as my recruits return; on the sole condition that he will give the same jurisdiction to Duncan upon his arrival."

The young king smiled warmly, his innocence shining like a beacon. "There, a favorable solution for everyone!"

Loghain's face was dark, but he nodded his agreement. "Indeed."

Anthatal glanced briefly at Alistair, who was clearly uncomfortable in the king's tent. "With your Majesty's permission, we will return to our encampment."

The smile remained on Cailan's face. "Of course, Commander."

The two Wardens bowed and quickly exited the tent. Alistair breathed a sigh of relief. "Loghain doesn't like us much, does he?"

A brief smile flitted across Anthatal's rugged face. "Not much at all, Alistair. Not much at all."


	8. VIII

"Ten out of twelve isn't bad. Better than last time, at least."

Anthatal gave his friend a long look. "Last time was what, one out of five?"

The barrel-chested man belched as he drained his tankard. "Two, I think, but it's not saying much." He held out the empty earthenware until Alistair hurried over to fill it.

"Considering the circumstances, we did quite well choosing this group," the man on the other side of Anthatal said.

"You mean Duncan did a good job, don't you, Kheva?" the barrel-chested man shouted.

The small, wiry man shrugged, running his long-fingered hand along his shaven scalp. "If you want to see it that way, Gregor. Still, a good result all around."

"How long does it usually take them to recover?" a new voice asked, somewhat timidly.

"A sodding lot less time than it took you, Reth!" shouted a dwarf sitting next to the massive Gregor.

Alistair silently took a seat between the lanky Kheva and Anthatal. "Is it always like this?" he whispered to his commander.

Anthatal nodded, looking into the fire. "Most of the time. We always celebrate when a good percentage of the recruits are able to pass the Joining."

An average sized man stood across the circle. "Let us thank the Maker for the safe Joining of our new brothers, and let us pray for those who were unable to be with us."

The dwarf threw a tankard at him. "Oh, shut up, Joss, you're no fun. Go party with your templar friends!"

The once-templar Joss looked gravely at the half-drunk dwarven berserker. "Have respect for your brothers, Ulath; those with us and those who are not."

A new voice joined the discussion, soft and musical. "Brothers, calm yourselves. Joss has a good point; we should be thankful for such a successful Joining."

Anthatal stood. "Mara is right. Joss, would you lead us?"

The templar nodded, a smile coming to his usually serious face. "Of course, Commander."

The prayer lasted for a good twenty minutes, during which the dwarf Ulath decided that the log he should be sitting on was a great place to fall unconscious. Anthatal hid a smile as the dwarf's ear-shattering snores quickly interrupted the pious Joss's prayers.

At the conclusion of the prayer, Gregor and Kheva dragged the intoxicated dwarf to his tent, and the elven twin mages Reth and Mara returned to theirs. Joss continued his prayer in silence as Alistair walked into the night. Anthatal sat for a long time, staring into the flames. Long after they had become nothing more than embers, Joss stood, came up to his commander, laid a hand on his shoulder briefly, and returned to the tents. Anthatal looked after his friend, the man who had become a Warden in the same ceremony that he himself had, and smiled briefly. This was his home; these were his people. Anthatal stood and returned to his tent, exhausted but content. This is where he belonged.


	9. IX

A few days passed, and the new Wardens prepared for the battle everyone knew was coming. Groups of scouts from the regular army met roving parties of darkspawn with increasing regularity, and not a few casualties occurred. Loghain still refused to allow the Wardens to take over scouting duties, and to avoid dissention in the army, Anthatal did not press the issue. Frankly, the tall man was tired of wrangling with the stubborn, arrogant general of the Fereldan army. He spent most of his time training the young Warden Alistair, improving the ex-templar's fighting technique. The rest of Anthatal's day consisted of drinking with Gregor and Ulath, arguing philosophy and comparative theologies with Kheva and Joss, and seeing to the needs of the new Wardens.

After a few weeks in camp, a scout from the Imperial Highway came in with the news that a pair of men were coming towards the camp. Anthatal met them at the old gates of Ostagar. They said that they had been sent ahead by Duncan, who was at most three days behind them. The tallest one was a middle-aged knight from the Arling of Redcliffe, and he introduced himself as Ser Jory. He was accompanied by a lanky thief with a quick sense of humor named Daveth, from the capital at Denerim. Anthatal greeted them warmly and directed them to the Wardens' encampment, placing them under the charge of the templar Joss.

With the arrival of Daveth and Jory, the number in the Warden encampment once again rose to twenty. Daveth quickly became the life of the group, always ready to tell a tall tale or quick joke that often had even the more serious Wardens roaring with laughter. However, many small items went missing on a daily basis, and Anthatal was often forced to reprimand the witty thief. Jory was more serious, spending much of his time alone, often looking at a small portrait of his wife, who he said was with child. He seemed almost reluctant to be with the Wardens, but on the training fields he was a force of nature, wielding a greatsword with a skill topped only by Anthatal himself.

Three days passed, and the same scout came to Anthatal, saying that he had met Duncan on the road. Anthatal headed towards the gates near the Tower of Ishal, but saw Cailan heading that way and decided to wait. He watched as Duncan met the Fereldan King and introduced him to the three that accompanied him. Anthatal couldn't quite make them out, but one was obviously a dwarf, and one seemed to be a noble. The third, however, remained an enigma, as he was often hidden from view by either Duncan or the young king.

After a few minutes, Cailan returned to his tents, where Loghain awaited him, and Duncan spoke briefly to his companions as they crossed the wide bridge spanning the canyon. They split off as soon as the four of them reached the other side, and Duncan approached his friend.

"It is good to see you again, Duncan."

The older Warden gripped Anthatal's forearm with a viselike hand. "The same to you, my friend. Tell me, did you have any trouble while I was gone?"

Anthatal shook his head. "None at all, Duncan. Two of the recruits didn't make it through the Joining ceremony."

"It is an inevitability; I can't remember ever hearing of a Joining where everyone survived."

The tall warrior nodded. "The knight and the thief arrived three days ago. They told us you were coming."

Duncan smiled. "Yes, the two of them were both accidental finds, to be honest with you; Daveth more than Jory."

A brief smile flitted across Anthatal's face. "I see you had some luck yourself, my friend."

"Yes, indeed I did. Denerim yielded both Daveth and Anadhel, the elf over there. He's quite skilled with those twin blades of his, though how he kept them hidden in the Alienage I have no idea. I recruited him just after he had killed the Arl of Denerim's son; apparently the pompous ass ruined his wedding. I came across Gaelan in Highever when I arrived to look in on another candidate. He's the youngest son of the late teyrn Bryce Cousland. Rendon Howe killed his family. From Highever I went on to Orzammar, and came across Kiln wandering in the Deep Roads. He wouldn't tell me any of his background, but from the looks of him he was sealed in the Deep Roads as a form of capital punishment. Overall a good group; I have high hopes for them."

"We need as many Wardens as we can get, Duncan. I'm glad you had such success."

Duncan smiled at his longtime friend. "As am I, Anthatal."

Anthatal clapped the shorter man on the shoulder. "Oh, incidentally, Loghain's been causing some difficulties. But, since you're here, I'm sure you can handle it." The tall warrior smiled as he strode towards the Wardens' encampment, leaving Duncan shaking his head after him.


End file.
